Tutoring
by Fairady
Summary: Failing grades are about to get Kon's weekends with the Titans revoked. Nothing to do but get a tutor. [SBxRobin]


Disclaimer: I don't own and I make no money off of this. Teen Titans and these characters belong to DC whom I am still upset with for cancelling Young Justice. 

Warnings: Here be slash. Two guys kissing and otherwise having fun. You don't like? Then DON'T read. You are warned and I have no pity for you.

Notes: Comicverse. Entry for a poetry challenge about a year ago. I got a lovely bit of a poem that spawned three different fic ideas. Sadly this was the one that was the most complete at the time of the deadline. Classic example of my writing, a bunch of short scenes strung together.

Tutoring  
by fairady

* * *

Getting away from Smallville, even just for the weekend, was the only thing that kept Kon sane. After his latest report card had been followed by an expulsion for truancy, Superman had put an ultimatum down: either Kon improved his grades, or he wouldn't be able to leave the house on weekends.

It wasn't that he was dumb. He knew stuff, lots of stuff. Just none of it seemed to be in the Smallville High curriculum. Which was nothing but a waste of time as far as he was concerned. But unless he wanted to spend his weekends with Bessy the Cow he was going to have to start learning. Faced with mind numbing books, and the bleak possibility of confinement to the farm he did the only thing he could think of.

He called Robin.

* * *

"Please tell me they're joking," Tim stared at the paper in horror. "What kind of a reading list is this!"

"Wait till you see this," Kon reached into his bag and pulled out a thin novel which he tossed to the other teen. "It's about some boxer growing up in prejudice and poverty. I think it's supposed to be some sorta morally uplifting lesson."

"The only thing it's going to serve as is an inducement for suicide," Tim flipped through the book. He stopped about midway through and stared. "This book has pictures in it."

"Yeah, I know," Kon dumped the rest of his school bag out on the bed. Looking around the room he decided he had to buy some posters to put up. The metal walls of the Tower were too boring.

"No," Tim looked over at him seriously, "I don't think you understand the sheer wrongness of this. This book, has pictures in it. Pictures. You're in high school and they're giving you the books with big words and pictures to read."

"Well, Smallville's a small town Tim. The advanced class gets to read poems with pictures," smirking Kon gestured to the bed. "Now do ya see why I need help?"

Tim looked at the pile of books and paper in trepidation, "When you said you needed help I thought you meant with a paper or something. Do you have the syllabus?"

"Here," the teachers had helpfully made copies of all that crap and sent them along with his report card to the Kents. "I'm gonna say hi to the others while you read it."

* * *

"Lets just start off with me saying that this," Tim gestured to the syllabus, "is a load of crap. There is next to nothing in here that is worth learning. You already know the few important bits they have."

"Tell that to Superman," Kon sprawled out on the bed next to the other boy. "What's the plan?"

Tim shoved most of the papers off the bed to make room for him to stretch out. "Your main problem is that you're bored, and I know how you like to avoid stuff that bores you. You could bring your grades up just by going to class and occasionally listening to what's being said. If you did your homework every other day you'd probably get B's."

"Great!" Kon perked up, the future wasn't looking so bleak now. "So I don't have to do much work at all."

"I never said that," the other boy smirked at him. "You'll have your work cut out for you just trying to attend class."

"Hey! I can do it," Kon protested. Forty-five minutes of listening to the dweebs behind him giggle over Sarah Leese's dye job. "Maybe."

"That's what I thought," Robin pulled out a history book. "Lets start with the stuff I know you really need to work on."

"Could we start on something else?" Kon scowled, history sucked. A buncha dead people and dates. The one time he'd tried reading the book he'd hurt himself by falling asleep before his TK could protect his head from hitting the desk. "I really need help in English. That teacher's out to get me."

"I'm not expecting you to suddenly become a straight A honor student, Kon," Tim idly paged through the book. "You don't have to memorize dates or anything. All you have to do is know what happened in the past, and at least get a vague timeline of important events. You could get that just by watching the history channel. It'll tell you what you need to know and make it a little interesting. More interesting than this book at least."

* * *

"German? What the hell made you chose German as your language?"

Kon shrugged. It hadn't really been his choice. The Kents had enrolled him late and the only opening left in language had been in German. "Does it matter? All languages sound the same to me, gibberish."

Tim rolled his eyes, "Yeah, but you should've gone with Spanish. At least you know a few words of it, and I could've been more help. I only know a little German."

"More than me," Kon muttered. "Just teach me what you do know."

"I'm afraid I can't help you there," the smaller boy shrugged regretfully. "I can tell you how to say, 'Give up and no one gets hurt.' All the other phrases I know are death threats and/or declarations of world domination."

Kon blinked at his friend and grinned. Declarations of world domination? He could have some fun with that. "So? Could come in handy someday."

Tim threw the book in Kon's face.

* * *

The lines blurred and twisted in a confusing jumble. Kon stared down at the paper entranced by the constant shifting. The sudden halt of Tim's voice snapped him out of his daze.

Four. The number stood proud and bold next to a jumble of crossed out letters and numbers.

"So, do you understand it now?" Tim sat back letting the other boy study the paper as he reached for his drink.

"Yeah, I totally get it now," he waited for Tim to take a nice long drink of his soder. "Um, so why're they using letters instead of numbers again?"

* * *

"I really don't see why you're having any problems with biology," Tim bit into his sandwich. Martha Kent was extremely grateful of the help he was giving Kon, and showed it in the form of really good food. "You know it. There really isn't any reason you should be failing the class."

"It's the teacher's fault. He's a really creepy old guy. Who makes us call him Doctor, and he's always telling these stories," Kon shuddered. He also had a feeling the man was a pervert. If the amount of time he spent leaning over his pretty students was any indication. Girl or boy, didn't seem to matter to him. It was the only class Kon would ever get to early. The desks against the back wall were always the first to go. "He likes to tell about how he used to work in the morgue of an old people's home and did autopsies on them. His office was right next to the body freezer."

"What does that have to do with you failing his class?" Tim frowned and propped his hand under his chin.

"Well, he always tells it when someone asks him how he can eat his lunch. Which he leaves uncovered on a plate in the same fridge he uses to culture bacteria and fungi."

"I think I'm going to puke."

* * *

"I conscientiously object to these books," Tim tossed the thin novel back into Kon's bag. "If they want you to learn a moral lesson they can show you an ABC special. You my friend are gonna read some of the classics."

"Ah, and your true evil is finally shown. You had no intention of helping me out of friendship. You just wanted to pull me to the geekside," Kon held his fingers up in the shape of a cross. "Get away from me you foul geek! Away!"

"Shut-up! Your a bigger geek than I am," Tim grabbed his crossed fingers and pulled him down onto the bed. He flipped a book of collected stories open and shoved it at Kon. "I'm going to start you off easy. Short stories, no epics. You might actually like some of this stuff. I think you'd get a kick out of Poe."

"'Get a kick?' What're you doing, channeling my 'Aunt' Martha, Birdboy?" Kon looked at the page. The story looked like it was about a cat, and it had the freakiest drawing of a black cat he'd ever seen.

"You left my cell phone number out where she could find it," Tim smiled wryly. He would have been more angry if it had been anyone besides Martha Kent. The woman probably made saints weep. "Do you know how hard it is to hang up on someone who wants to 'take the time to tell you how much I really appreciate what you're doing?' Last time I bring my phone out on patrol. I nearly got the crap beaten out of me."

* * *

"I hate you!"

"I know," Tim desperately tried not to laugh. The Kid of Steel hovered over the bed brandishing the book threateningly at him. "You've said that five times so far. Honestly, I didn't know you were such a bleeding heart."

"I'm a hero! Part of my job is rescuing cats from trees for their loving kid owners!" Kon threw the book across the room. Hard enough to dent the wall and rip the book in half. "He killed his cat! The stupid cat didn't ever do nothing but love him!"

"I'm sorry. I guess that was a harsh story to start with," Tim held his hands up appeasingly. "Look, why don't we go out and get some ice cream. Maybe we can watch a nice Disney movie, too. Like Bambi."

"I hate you!"

* * *

"You gotta be anywhere tonight?" Superboy asked drumming his heels against the counter.

"Huh?" Tim pulled his head out of the fridge. "I've got my patrol. Why?"

Kon shrugged and jumped of the counter. "Nothing. I'll just say you couldn't make it."

"Wait!" He reached out and grabbed Kon's shoulder stopping him from leaving the kitchen. "Make it where? What are you talking about?"

"'s nothing," Kon shrugged under the other's hand. "Aunt Martha wanted to get you to come over for dinner. She said she wanted to meet you, and wouldn't listen when I told her you were busy. "

"For some of Mrs. Kent's cooking?" Tim headed up to his room. He'd need to change and find his 'Alvin' sunglasses. "Who said I was busy?"

* * *

"I-uh," Kon stared down at the floor. He was startled by the hand on his shoulder. Looking up he saw Tim was smiling.

"Don't sweat it, Kon," he pushed him towards the couch. "It was my fault. I should know better than to leave my cell behind like that. You did a pretty good job covering for me."

"Yeah? I tried," he sank down gratefully. Kon had spent most of the week imagining all the ways Tim would kill him. "So what'd your Dad have to say?"

"Not much really. He thinks it's nice of me to be helping one of my friends out like this. It actually gives me a better cover story now," the Boy Wonder smirked. "Unfortunately, he and Dana want to meet you now."

"Not good," Kon tensed up. Meeting the parents meant going to Gotham, and Gotham meant Batman. "What's the plan?"

"You'll come over for a pizza study session next Friday."

"What?" he had to be joking. "Are you trying to get me killed? No way is Batman gonna let me in Gotham."

"Relax," Tim said in his most soothing tone. "I already explained it to him. He knows this is a good cover for me and he won't give you much grief over it."

"Much?" Kon felt it was an appropriate time to squeak. "How much is much?"

"It'll be fine," Tim said ignoring the other boy's panicked expression.

* * *

"I don't get it."

"What's not to get? This isn't a hard poem. It means exactly what it says," Tim rolled closer to point at the verse.

Kon waved his hands away. "I know what it says, and I know what it means. I just don't get it."

"What don't you get?" Tim leaned closer as Kon mumbled something. "What was that? I didn't hear what you said."

"I said I've never been kissed."

"You-?" Tim forcefully bit off the rest of the sentence. That had to be the most unexpected sentence the Kid had ever uttered. Calmly Tim continued, "Oh, well what's wrong with that?"

"The way everyone acts!" Kon shut the book and tossed it to the floor. His face was turning red in embarrassment. "Your first kiss is supposed to be perfect. It's like you're expected to know how to kiss from birth, and if you don't know you're some kinda freak. If you can't learn by yourself how else are you supposed to learn?"

"Practice," Tim rolled onto his back and struggled to find the words to explain. "No one knows how to kiss. I mean, you can kinda guess about some of it, but it's nothing compared to what you learn from actually being kissed. It's just something you learn from someone else."

"Then why aren't they teaching that at school? I bet attendance would improve."

Tim laughed. "Well, Smallville is a small town Kon. I'm sure the advanced classes are contemplating the art of holding hands."

"Smallville education sucks," Kon smirked and leaned over his friend. The mischievous light in his eyes made Tim wary. "Good thing I've got a tutor."

"Wai-" Tim was cut off by Kon's lips. They brushed against his and stopped. Waited. A hundred different thoughts labeled 'Bad Idea' flashed through his mind before he shoved them aside and gently kissed Kon back. Slowly moving his lips over the other boy's.

Tim pulled back and looked at Kon's lightly blushing face. "Not bad for a first kiss."

"If you say so teach," Kon put one hand behind Tim's head and gently pulled, "but I think I'm going to need some more lessons."

* * *

'that is (a) kiss  
you say  
something ican  
never learn  
from mirrors  
or with my own hands'


End file.
